


infinity times infinity.

by snugglyduckling



Category: Tangled (2010)
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, Lots of time skips, Rapunzel POV, Rapunzel introspective, eugene doesn’t die! yay!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 22:37:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12375582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snugglyduckling/pseuds/snugglyduckling
Summary: She stood (the grass was no longer cool on her feet, the sun having made everything it touched warm and real and bright), looking over at Pascal; her friend looked just as confused as the man in front of her, and she couldn’t help but laugh to herself— it all seemed so simple now, so easy. “I thought about what you said.”-an au in which rapunzel doesn’t recall her past, mother gothel doesn’t find her, and happy endings come in many forms.





	infinity times infinity.

**Author's Note:**

> okay this is my goddamn magnum opus. i wrote like 25% of it one day, expecting to never finish it, and then something came over me today and i finished the rest of it in 5 hours (which is why the beginning is so different from the rest, sorry). this is beautiful and i will not hear otherwise.
> 
> some notes:  
> 1\. “mother knows best (reprise)” still occured, but after that, gothel went back to the tower, expecting rapunzel to return on her own.  
> 2\. i know it’s a little ooc. idk what to tell you on that one  
> 3\. i am fully aware that i overuse dashes and semicolons and parenthases  
> 4\. the title is from “sun” by sleeping at last. it seemed applicable.  
> 5\. did i mention i’m proud of myself

Rapunzel gripped the bow of the boat, her eyes stuck to the sandy shore of the outskirts of Corona. Behind her, the center of the kingdom rose out of the bay, the stars mingling with the last of the released lanterns. The sound of distant music drifted across the water, a reminder of the celebratory feeling that fell over the kingdom at this time of year. 

Rapunzel felt none of it.

All she could hear was the pounding of her heart and the waves she was using to keep track of time, each one hitting the hull of the boat with a hollow, watery _thunk._

So far she'd counted 150 waves (she quickly did the calculations in her head-- if she could count to 5 between each wave, that meant she'd been there for 750 seconds. 13 minutes. Was that too long? Where had he gone?)

Pascal chirped from his perch on her shoulder, his little arms crossed, his brow furrowed. 

Rapunzel took a deep breath. "It's okay, Pascal. He'll be back. Maybe...maybe he had to bury the crown, and it's taking him a while to find a good spot." 

Pascal didn't seem satisfied with such an explanation. Truthfully, Rapunzel wasn't either. She had no _real_ reason to trust Eugene; he was a thief, after all, doing her a service in order to get his prized possession back. Why shouldn't he leave? He had no reason to stay now that he had his crown back. Mother was probably right all along. It was all in her head. The way he looked at her, the way she'd felt when their hands touched, how he'd almost kissed her...

A loud crunching from the bushes pulled Rapunzel from her worrying. A quick glance around showed her she had nothing to defend herself in case he'd come back to hurt her-- or, worse, if someone else had stumbled upon the alcove she stood in. Pascal puffed out his chest, trying his best to look intimidating.

Luckily, the dark figure emerging from the thick fog had a shape that vaguely resembled Eugene's.

She breathed a sigh of relief, nearly laughing at herself. She was right after all; perhaps he _did_ have a soft spot for her. "I was starting to think you ran off with the crown and left me."

As he came closer, she could pick out his broad shoulders, his shaggy hair, his jawline, his _perfect_ nose. Pascal made a clicking noise, crawling from her shoulder to her head.

Eugene looked behind him before taking her hand. "Everything is taken care of. The crown is gone. I promise." 

She couldn't help the small smile that made its way onto her face. "Gone?"

Eugene shrugged. "I knew someone who wanted it more." He looked behind himself again. "We should return this thing before the horse starts breathing down my neck again." 

Rapunzel laughed, looking at the boat. "Yeah, probably..." 

She gave him a small smile before climbing into the boat. One of her bare feet slipped a little on the damp bottom of the vessel before she caught herself (she could practically hear mother now: "Really, Rapunzel, how clumsy! All of these missteps are so immature of you! Someone ready to see the outside world would have NEVER made such a mistake! How long have I been telling you to wear shoes, Rapunzel? It's no wonder he nearly ran away from you...")

Rapunzel glanced out onto the horizon as Eugene jumped into the boat with a _thump_ and began to paddle. Pascal scampered down to one of the edges of the boat, looking as relieved as she felt. But she couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling of confusion that had taken a hold of her since they started their journey together.

"Eugene? Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

She cocked her head, narrowing her eyes.

"It's a joke, Blondie. Go ahead."

She paused, giving herself a moment to think. "Why...why did you come back?"

"Why did I come back?"

"I mean, why didn't you just take the crown and leave? Isn't that what you wanted?"

He paddled in silence for a moment. "Are you really still going back to that tower?"

She frowned. Another question was not the answer she'd been looking for. 

However, it was a good question.

How could she possibly go back to her life of isolated solitude after everything she'd seen? The number of books in the shop they'd visited was reason alone to stay away. There were so many things she hadn't done, so many people she hadn't met, so many sights she hadn't seen. The world was was much bigger than Mother had always told her-- it was so much _better_ than Mother had always told her. The only danger she'd ended up in was the chaos at the Snuggly Duckling, and she'd managed to take care of all of that herself (with Eugene's help, of course. But mostly by herself). The truth was, Mother had been wrong about so much. Rapunzel was capable of navigating and learning and _being_ on her own. 

On the other hand, Mother needed her hair. It was no secret that its magic kept Mother young; if Rapunzel left, time would eat away at her until nothing was left. And after all Mother had done, raising Rapunzel, feeding her, clothing her, loving her, she owed it to the woman. It was the least she could do ("Nothing comes for free, Rapunzel," echoed in her mind). 

Eugene was still looking at her expectantly.

"I have to," Rapunzel answered, grabbing a lock of her hair. 

"Why? Because of your mother?"

She paused before coming to the conclusion that the thief could be trusted with such an important piece of information. "My hair...it can do...things."

He scoffed. "Yeah, I noticed."

"I mean, beyond glowing and healing people." Another pause. "My hair...I don't know how, but...when I sing to my mother, it...makes her younger. Her hair goes from gray to black, the lines on her face disappear, her skin gets smoother. Eugene, I'm afraid if I leave, she might...die." She whispered the last word, as though it was a curse, as though the fates might hear her and perform the exact action she was so desperately avoiding.

Eugene's paddling stopped, his face contorting into something unnatural. 

"Are you okay?" she asked. He seemed to have frozen. Maybe he'd seen something? No, there was nothing behind them. "Eugene?"

He began to string together a whole slew of the words Mother told Rapunzel to never say (She winced, glancing at Pascal. He had his ears covered, his eyes wide. This man really was a ruffian).

Once he'd exhausted his collection of forbidden words, he looked back at her with eyes to match Pascal's. "Immortality?!"

"What?"

"Y-your hair! It-it-"

Rapunzel grabbed his hand-- he was _definitely_ freaking out. "Eugene."

He looked down at their hands and then back to her.

"Relax. I know it's...unusual, but it was unusual before too, and you were fine!"

He took a breath, looking back at their hands. "Rapunzel...immortality...that's pretty heavy."

She sighed, pulling her hand away and looking out over the bay. "That's why I have to stay, Eugene. She needs my hair."

"She needs your hair."

She nodded, keeping her eyes locked on the castle out on the peninsula. She remembered the king and queen from the mosaic in the village, how kind they looked. She'd have to put them in her sketchbook when she got home. If Mother let her keep her sketchbook after everything, that is. 

"Rapunzel, think about what you just said."

"What do you mean?"

"She needs your _hair._ Listen, I've been trying not to jump to conclusions, especially since I don't even know a quarter of the story, but it seems like somewhere, deep down, you know it too."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Rapunzel...I think she's using you."

She blinked.

"You said she needs your hair. Not that she misses you, not that she's worried. Just that she needs your hair. She kept you locked in a tower your entire life, kept your information limited, forced you to grow your hair out for eighteen years-"

"Stop it." Rapunzel's mouth was downturned, her brows tightly knit together. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Rapunzel-"

"No."

"All I'm saying is-"

"Eugene, I said no! I don't want to hear what you have to say because you've got no idea what my mother is like. She loves me. She took me in when I was very young and has provided for me ever since. I'm not just going to let her die because you think in the two days we've spent together you have my entire life figured out."

He sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry."

She looked back to the castle, still frowning. Pascal crawled up to her shoulder, blending in with her dress. He didn't want to get involved in any of it.

Rapunzel wished she could disappear too.

As they paddled back to the docks, they passed by the quickly dissolving remains of the paper lanterns floating in the water. She couldn’t bring herself to stop staring— all her hopes and dreams were breaking apart to nothing, right on this very bay. 

Before long, the boat thumped against the dock, and Rapunzel watched as Eugene jumped skillfully out of the boat and began to tie a secure knot (“How _rude,_ Rapunzel! You ask him to risk his life to take you to look at _lights_ and you can’t figure out any way to help him! This is exactly what I’m talking about, flower: you’re helpless.”)

Eugene offered a hand to help her out, and she took it with a soft “thank you,” well aware of the guards standing a hundred feet away. He helped her onto the dock, keeping his gaze locked on her. She couldn’t help but look at him too, their faces close (maybe he would try to kiss her again?); she felt Pascal squirm on her shoulder. 

His eyes seemed to be whispering secrets to her: _She_ is _using you; you’ll be better off away from that place._

She turned away before she had a chance to think about it.

“Take me home,” she whispered, barely audible.

They managed to leave the kingdom much more painlessly than she thought possible; apparently, he was a very skilled thief, as he knew all of the tricks to getting them out without being seen (of course, Rapunzel did almost mess it up— something about the mosaic of the king and queen distracted her, and she stood right in the middle of the square just as a guard came around the corner, but, of course, Eugene was there to pull her into a shadowy corner) (the very _very_ back of her mind was quite pleased with being a dark corner pressed tightly to his chest, actually, but those thoughts were shut down more quickly than they’d come). Before she knew it, they were walking down the dark pathway that led through the woods, the center of Corona seeming miles behind her already.

Strangely enough, she wasn’t scared anymore. Not of the trees that seemed to have faces and claws, not of the rustling in the bushes, not of poison ivy or cannibals or the plague, and especially not of ruffians and thugs. The only thing that she really felt afraid of was the prospect of facing her mother.

Rapunzel rarely acted out. Really, the only thing she’d ever been in trouble for were the various times she’d asked to leave the tower, which were always met with long bouts of scolding and a lecture that Rapunzel now knew was overdramatized. And if she’d always been in that much trouble for _asking_ to leave, well...it wasn’t unreasonable for her to be afraid of going back. She looked at Pascal, who was falling asleep on her shoulder, wondering what his opinion on the matter was. He would know better than Eugene, after all, about the way Mother was. About whether leaving or not was a good idea.

She sighed. It would be better if she just stopped thinking about it. Leaving would have to go back to being a silly dream, something she thought about late at night. Her hair provided light, healing, youth, but it also had put a weight on her shoulders since the moment she had been born. She had a responsibility— her mother needed her. Leaving would be selfish, and, frankly, incredibly cruel after all Mother had done for her. 

She quieted the thoughts in her head, instead focusing on the cool, squishy feeling of the grass and dirt under her feet, and the inky black sky above, and the mossy, green rocks that littered the path ahead. She would have to commit it all to memory, keep it close to her heart. The memory of the feeling of rough, rigid tree bark under her hands or the sandy shores of the bay behind her would have to be enough to keep her going when it got hard. 

She had been pointedly avoiding looking at Eugene; for whatever reason, thinking of him did nothing but muddle her thoughts. She would have to commit him to memory too, keep him somewhere deep inside her, where he would be waiting for her when she got lonely. Eyes the color of honey, hands rough like stone, a smile much warmer than Mother’s— she was itching to draw it, to put him on paper and keep him permanent. But she knew better. When she got back to her tower, Mother would likely erase any trace of the last two days: her dress, the flowers in her hair, the flag she had folded and pressed against her breast, her memories. She would not let Mother take Eugene; he would stay locked away inside of her, only for her. 

She felt tears welling up behind her eyes (“Rapunzel, please— crying is for children.”) and quickly blinked them away. With a calming breath, she was brought back to reality. The earth was still cool against her feet, the moonlight still shone on the silk of her dress.

Eugene stopped suddenly, looking around the thicket they were in with a somewhat frantic look in his eyes. 

Rapunzel glanced around too— was someone coming? “Is everything okay?”

It took him a few seconds to answer. “Depends on your definition of ‘okay.’”

Her heart stopped for a moment. If only she still had her frying pan. “Eugene...”

He quickly turned to her. “No, no everything is fine! I just...well. I think we’re lost.”

She turned to look at the surrounding foliage. It didn’t look very familiar, but, then again, nothing did. “Oh...”

He was scowling at a rock, his brow furrowed. “I-I don’t know how this happened.”

Rapunzel was pretty sure she knew; he’d likely been just as lost in thought as she had. She turned her head to the sky looking up at the stars. One of the constellations looked familiar: a pot. In the tower, the handle was always pointed at the sink. She considered it for a moment— the sink was on the left of the tower, but where were they now? They couldn’t just walk left until they found it, because she didn’t know where they were in relation to her home. She sighed. “What do we do?”

He hesitated. “Well...we can either keep walking and try to find it, or spend the night here and try again in the morning.”

She blinked. Mother would be okay for a few more hours, right? She couldn’t help the small smile that came over her face (“Of course— you’re excited to spend another night away from me, laying with that _criminal_ when I need you! Disgusting! Barbaric!”). “I can try to help you build the fire this time.”

She was relieved to see him smile too. “I don’t know, Blondie, building a fire that meets my high expectations might be kind of tough.” 

She pretended to wince. “After everything, you can’t even trust me to build a fire? I’m hurt.”

Eugene rolled his eyes dramatically. “You should _not_ be picking up any sarcasm from me. It’ll ruin the whole ‘naïve’ thing, and that’s basically your whole gimmick.”

She raised an eyebrow. “ _Just_ naïve? Ouch.”

It was too easy to fall into a rhythm with him, bantering back and forth, collecting firewood, sitting shoulder to shoulder in front of their blazing fire (which she was perfectly capable of building— not that he actually doubted her for a second). If she focused very hard on not thinking about it, she could pretend that this was normal. That she spent every day like this, building fires and tromping fearlessly through the woods and falling asleep not five feet away from him. 

She softly deposited Pascal onto the grass, laying her own head down. She wished she could bottle up the sweet fragrance of the earth, and the clean air, and the smoky fire, and fall asleep with it every night. It was calming, and comforting, and making her incredibly sleepy. 

She listened to Eugene’s soft breathing from beside her. What was he going to do once she was gone? He had proved how deftly he could evade Corona’s guards, but his talents weren’t a guarantee. Would he be safe? He’d likely leave the kingdom, go somewhere far away where he could find a new crown and a new girl to steal from their proper places and go on an adventure. Something about that put a sour feeling in her stomach. 

It seemed...bad, almost, the way Eugene had become so special to her in so little time. But for some reason, everything about him was something she liked. His jawline, the gentle way he spoke to her, the width of his shoulders, the way he made her laugh. She felt like she was dreaming every time she looked at him, a soft, airy feeling, like she was being picked up off her feet and carried away. The thought of him smiling and laughing and _being_ with someone else felt more like being dropped. But once she was gone, anything could happen. She’d be a stationary memory in the mind of a man who never stopped moving. Unimportant, unmemorable, unattractive. 

She was more than aware of her faults— Mother made sure she knew of them. Her knobby legs, her wide hips, the way her front teeth stuck out, the dark freckles that littered her body, her large feet, her too-big eyes. Her hair was the only attractive thing about her, and he didn’t seem to want that. Which was odd, to say the least. If he didn’t want her hair, why had he tried to convince her not to go back? What about her was desirable enough that he’d give away his crown and ask her to stay? 

She frowned, remembering their previous conversation. ‘She’s using you,’ echoed in her mind, ached in her chest. It had felt like she’d been thrown into the bay when he’d said it, gallons of water suddenly washing over her, making everything dark and cold and true. 

It was the truth. Of course it was the truth. So many years of Mother leaving and returning only to feed her and sing a song, so many years of meticulously brushing and cleaning and ensuring her golden locks stayed safe, so many years of feeling like her entire life built up to the fibers on her head. Now she just felt like she was being torn apart. There was a sudden disconnect between ‘Rapunzel’ and ‘Rapunzel’s Hair.’ There was a girl underneath the hair, a girl she had gotten to know very well through 18 years of solitude. She was a person, yes, a person that believed in love and dreams and loyalty. 

Right there, laying on the ground, underneath the stars, next to a thief, she felt a tug somewhere deep in her gut, an invisible hand pulling her from the life she’d always known. 

Mother had been okay before Rapunzel had come along.

Mother would be okay when Rapunzel left.

(Yes, ‘when.’ It felt as though the stars themselves had made the decision for her, the stars and the moon and the earth and the sun itself.) 

She fell asleep with that thought imprinted on her heart, and it felt like she’d only blinked before the sounds of movement woke her.

She slowly opened her eyes, the sun’s brilliant rays reflecting off the grass and the leaves on the trees (everything seemed so much _brighter_ today). The fire was dying out, and at some point in the night, Pascal had migrated to her chest. 

Eugene was leaning against a tree, his hair wet, buckling his vest (he seemed much brighter too; she was sure, now, that she had made the right choice). 

He turned to look at her. “Did I wake you up?”

Rapunzel shook her head, watching Pascal cover his ears, grumbling. She chuckled, stroking a finger over his head until he woke up and sleepily moved himself to her shoulder so she could sit up. 

It was easier for her to recall where they were now— they must gave been near the stream, given Eugene’s wet hair and the very faint gurgling of water.

“Are you hungry?” 

She shook her head. They’d eaten so much last night: sizzling meats, warm bread, cupcakes... “Not yet.”

He nodded slowly, keeping quiet. She was still drinking in everything around her, considering the fact that she had decided to make this her life ( _She_ had decided! It was a rare occurrence, although hopefully that would be changing in the next hour). 

Eugene cleared his throat, standing, brushing off his pants. “Should we get going?”

She brought her knees to her chest, smiling. “No.”

A moment of silence. “Wait, what?”

She stood (the grass was no longer cool on her feet, the sun having made everything it touched warm and real and bright), looking over at Pascal; her friend looked just as confused as the man in front of her, and she couldn’t help but laugh to herself— it all seemed so simple now, so easy. “I thought about what you said.”

He looked at her, eyes growing wide with realization. 

“I’m not going back, Eugene. I can’t. Mother will be okay without me, I know it. But there’s so much I still haven’t seen...”

Eugene smiled, looking relieved and elated and amazed. “You’re sure?”

She nodded (Pascal had never looked so excited, and that was the final confirmation). “Definitely.”

He offered her his hand. “Where to first?”

Everything seemed to come together then, with his hand in hers and the sun smiling on its child and a chameleon dancing. 

It was not the ending the storybooks had intended— it was better.

“Everywhere.”


End file.
